Date: 02/02/2011

Number: 1

27 Feb 2
Today is the day of the robin’s feast
The sound struck me first at 9am
Tweeting and whistling and calling
Not the song the sweet birds sing
But is this the song of the migrator
Returning to its breeding ground?
Then the constant swirling dipping and diving
Of hundreds of little bodies
Winging their way from the mighty maple
On the other side of the left fence
Bare but for those little lives
To the neglected holly
On the other side of the right fence
Diving in among the thorny leaves
Aiming straight for a cluster of ripe berries
Perching if they can but if not
Berry in firmly clutched in beak
Flying back to the maple
To savor and preen then start again
Thirsty work
A long line of robins perches on the gutter
Drinking long from the snow melt pooling there
Then back to the maple for
Fluffing, twitching, listening, resting.

Annapolis, MD

Latitude: 39 Longitude: -76.6

Observed by:
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